


Fall into Change

by Aeris_Blue



Series: Seasons of Grillster [5]
Category: Undertale
Genre: Arachnophobia, Confrontation, Cuddles, Eternals, Giving thanks, Insecurities, M/M, Mnemphobia, Moving In Together, Moving Out, Picnic, Protective daughter, becomming a family, doubts, working out problems
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2020-12-16 07:42:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21032678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeris_Blue/pseuds/Aeris_Blue
Summary: It’s Grillby and Gaster’s one year anniversary and, as promised, they are moving in together.





	1. A Cup Next to Mine

**Author's Note:**

> We’re back guys!

Gaster listened to the jostling of the boxes filled with what little he owned rattling in the truck bed. He turned back to watch as his sons’ house grew smaller in the distance until it blurred amongst the trees and sky into little more than a thought. After being away from them for so long he couldn’t help but wonder if he made the right choice.

Their family was finally back to where he wanted it to be. Never again would they be close to what they once were but he was happy. He finally felt comfortable enough to fuss over them and play the parent he’d missed so desperately. In turn his sons were finally content in his presence enough to truly act like their boisterous cooky selves.

Now he was leaving all of it behind: Sans’s puns, Papyrus’s smile, arguments about socks, little insults that just showed how well they knew each other, and christmas lights that decorated the house year long with the merriment of a season no longer too far away. If he left would it all fall apart? Would they still want him to visit or were they glad to be rid of him? 

No, he couldn’t think like that. It was hard to keep those voices from his head when everything was shifting around like the boxes in the back.

“Are you alright?” Grillby’s soft voice gently coaxed his attention away from the thoughts that wanted to pull him under. 

Gaster took a moment to make sure he could sign without distracting him. Since they were at a red light he pulled his hands up, ‘I just thought I heard something bounce a little too hard.’ He moved to sit in his seat properly and gave Grillby a sheepish little smile to mask his nerves.

His partner was quiet while he stared up at the light with a vague expression. Just as the light turned green his words seemed to click into place, “You’ve got two really great sons.”

Of course Grillby saw right through him. He tilted his head against the passenger window with a nod of acknowledgment, they really were great… but they weren’t the only ones.

Grillby was so patient with him and his frequent flights of fear. Always ready to carefully coax him back from a branch far too thin to stand on. When they held hands Gaster actually felt the strength he had always been missing in life. There wasn’t anything about Grillby that had him on edge it was much more-- He was pulled from his thoughts as the engine turned off with a jingle of warning from the key ring.

Impulsively he swallowed, holding the last of his current life in his ribs as if the fresh air would steal it from him. “You coming?” Grillby’s soft voice filled the cabin of the truck with a coaxing warmth. Gaster nodded his teeth made a sharp squeak when he clamped them together as he exited the car.

Despite the fact that all of his belongings were here the truck bed was still plainly visible. Most of the boxes were dedicated to his, mostly black, wardrobe made up of the few articles of clothing that had survived through years of his absence as well as what he had managed to accumulate here on the surface. These were easy to stack especially in Grillby’s strong arms.

_ What it must be like to be a monster with actual mass _ , Gaster sighed dreamily.

All that remained were the more personal belongings: a box full of books, scribbled in notebooks, some printouts from his classes, a laptop, the silly plush Grillby had gotten him, just rudimentary things a monster like himself might acquire. “We can make two trips,” Grillby reminded him as Gaster straightened his shoulders and started to collect his magic in the air.

‘I can do this,’ he signed as two sets of hand bullets appeared. Oh how he longed for the days where he could have nearly eight sets doing tasks all about a room without an ounce of concentration. The sets grabbed a box each and carefully lifted them out of the truck bed. They flickered dangerously for a moment but their grip never faltered. This left one box filled with only his most precious of treasures that he insisted on carrying himself.

Grillby stuck close by him as they walked into the restaurant and up the stairs to Grillby’s living quarters. It took a bit of fidgeting but Grillby managed to pull his keys out and stick them in the door.

“Wait,” Gaster called, his weird Font stole Grillby’s attention before he could turn the key in the door. He set the box he was carrying down softly on the landing then pulled his hands to his chest, ‘I need you to promise me something first.’ Grillby smirked questioningly but dropped his grip on the key.

This was stupid. Before it even escaped him he knew that, but the last several weeks it had been playing in his mind over and over again. If he just repressed it like he wished too then it would just keep repeating in his head like a faulty record. ‘If we do this you won’t feel stuck with me.’

Grillby popped a few sparks obviously taken off guard, ‘I know I’m still… a mess,’ he ran his hands over his skull, ‘I don’t know if I will ever be normal again but it’s not your responsibility to take care of me.’ That was the big one but he couldn’t bring himself to stop, ‘I get lost in my work, I’ll hide away in my room for hours, I forget to eat, I  _ have _ to have coffee in the morning, I know I rattle in my sleep sometimes, and--’

Having had enough Grillby wrapped his hands around Gaster’s to still his frantic signing, “Alright but you have to promise me something.” He couldn’t keep the coy smile off his face, “You won’t feel stuck with me.” Gaster cocked his brow since there was nothing to feel stuck with.

“I’m a workaholic. With the restaurant just a flight of stairs away I’ll disappear no matter what’s going on. I fuss over everything which includes nothing. I’ll spend chunks of the clock trying to make sure my bow tie is straight,” he placed his forearm to his forehead, “so promise me you won’t feel stuck with me.”

Okay. Maybe he was being a touch dramatic but what was wrong with him was infinitely worse than any flaw Grillby might believe himself to have. ‘I’m sorry I know it’s ridiculous but…’ Ever since he returned to this plane of existence he’d felt like he was burdening those around him. No matter how much better he got, no matter what he did to improve himself, that feeling wasn’t going away.

“You're nervous, I get it… trust me,” his flames fell closer to his core for a fraction of a second before they resumed their usual pattern. “If you ever feel like this is a bad idea we’ll just go back to the way it was. I’m sure your boys already miss you.”

Gaster curled his hands into fists briefly, ‘I want this to work. I suppose I am just… a touch nervous.’ His soul thrummed so wildly in his ribcage he wondered if Grillby could hear it. 

If he could he ignored it stepping as close as he could to Gaster with the boxes in his arms, “I promise Bun I won’t ever feel stuck with you.”

Grillby was too good for this world, ‘And I could never feel stuck with you.’ If it wasn’t for the boxes in his grip Gaster had no doubt Grillby would have moved to kiss him or at least lace their fingers together. Finally the key turned in the door and pressed open to Grillby’s-- to their home.

It wasn’t the first time he’d been here, he was well aware of the layout: the kitchen, pristine and perfect was to the immediate left of the entryway, and the living room to the right separated by nothing more than waist high walls that framed the tiled entryway. They hauled the few boxes he owned just past the livingroom to the dining room table.

The moment the hand bullets set their boxes down they disappeared tired of handling all the heavy lifting. “Welcome home,” Grillby popped with a wide jack o lantern smile and soft eyes.

He decided to close the distance between them wrapping his thin arms around the sturdy flame. ‘Thank you,’ he signed once he pulled away.

“Happy first anniversary,” Grillby wrapped his warm fingers around Gaster’s his magic pulsing in waves of happiness, excitement, adoration, and, if Gaster concentrated enough, just a touch of a giddy nervousness. Gaster gave him a quick peck on the cheek before he turned to his boxes. “I’ve got a good dinner planned but I’ll help you with a box or two before I start on it.”

‘You didn’t have to do anything, helping me pack was more than enough.’ Despite the fact that Gaster had proposed the idea Grillby was the one that remembered it enough to pester him the last couple of weeks with packing reminders. Gaster had still managed to procrastinate it until yesterday morning.

‘That sounds nice,’ Gaster smiled picking up the box he’d just set down and moving to the kitchen. The cardboard was plastered with black sharpie ink that read nearly every iteration of ‘Fragile’ you could imagine in all upper case or all lower case letters. Grillby eyed it curiously surprised that he’d own anything that goes in the kitchen. ‘Do you have any space in your cupboards?’

Along the top of the ceiling on the right hand side was a row of cupboards and under each counter was a drawer or cabinets surely there was somewhere for them. Grillby pulled open the top of the box then threw a few sparks as he found it full of nothing but ceramic mugs all lovingly padded with news paper. ‘You know I’m not one for gifts but the boys found a way around it.’

Grillby tugged open a cabinet, then pulled down a few punch bowls to relocate later, before returning his attention to Gaster’s hands. ‘They’d find a cup then pour me a cup of coffee in the morning. I’d be so tired I wouldn’t even notice until the coffee was gone.’

He had far too many mugs for one monster but they were all dear to him. Grillby busied himself by unwrapping each one giving little reaction outside of popping or crackling. They clanked against Gaster’s fingers as he took each one in hand to set them along the top shelf. Lots of them were decorated with skulls, the boys had a real adoration for Jolly Rogers, some had puns or complaints about needing coffee, for the most part they were all the same size and shape. The smile on his face was probably unwarranted but there was so much soul in each cup.

Gaster reached back for the next cup but it never came to hand, he furrowed his brows curiously turning to Grillby whose yellows were bright as he stared at the one in his hands. Written across it was  _ World’s Greatest Father _ with the word father scratched out and scientist written underneath it. He stayed silent wondering if Grillby recognized where the cup came from, “Why did you scratch out Father just to write it again?” He passed him the cup.

A sigh built at the base of his ribs but he didn’t let it fester as he tapped the cup into place, ‘After the boys came along they insisted I correct it back to its proper state.’ He bounced his shoulders tired of reaching above his head, ‘A friend gave it to me originally as a bit of a joke after I swore off parent as a title for myself.’

“Well that certainly changed.”

It had. Taking in those two had been one of the greatest changes of his life. Everything he thought he knew about himself was thrown out the nearest window and he was forced to start almost from scratch. He took the cup from Grillby, this wasn’t anything so dramatic.

Grillby crackled, “World’s greatest scientist, huh?”

‘Well he certainly thought so,’ Gaster smiled as he stepped back from the cabinet filled to the brim with ceramics. Already it felt more like he belonged here, just a small space that he had taken as his own. ‘So, with those out of the way, what are you cooking?’

“It’s a surprise,” Grillby slipped his fingers against Gaster’s knuckles, “you just finish unpacking and I’ll have it ready in no time.”

Oh! This was the ideal time to say something cheeky, flirty, but what? His knuckles squeezed against Grillby’s fingers and his train of thought was completely derailed when he received a soft squeeze back.

His partner was so warm, so pleasant, the soft rolling of his flames relaxed his ancient bones and calmed his magic. Without much thought he pulled Grillby closer to him until their chests were flush. His eyelights studied the flecks no longer hidden by the reflection in his glasses. This was the start of their life together.

Grillby couldn’t resist any longer: he closed the distance between them. Gaster tilted his head to the side to taste the smoky kiss. The warmth blistered from Grillby and filled Gaster’s skull until he felt just about dizzy from it. He tilted his head down slowly placing their foreheads against each other as he softly pulled away.

His partner’s flames waved across his form lazily while pale pink sparks danced into the air. Kissing was such a simple thing but it made him so happy. Gaster exhaled to break the silence between them making the last of Grillby’s magic leave his teeth. ‘I should finish unpacking.’

“I’ll make dinner,” Grillby smiled but as Gaster went to pull away he found their fingers still interlaced.

‘Grillby?’ Gaster asked glancing deliberately down to their hands.

“Right, right,” blue burned under his eyes briefly before he turned to the pots and pans hanging above. 

Gaster chuckled and returned to the dinning room with the intent of grabbing his box of bathroom supplies. He glanced down the hall to see the window seat had gained a bookshelf, a side table, and a small potted plant which made the simple alcove look more like a lounge. Curious he grabbed a few of his own books to take in the nearly empty shelves.

This was definitely new.

What books there were seemed barely touched aside from the brightly colored children’s book whose bind had seen better days. Gaster pulled it off the shelf to set it on the one below where he propped it against his case of Fluffy Bunny books. He really didn’t know why the monster was so ashamed to admit it was his favorite. The textbooks in his arms were set on the top shelf so they wouldn’t be a hassle to lift off the ground.

Now, back to the bathroom supplies. The first thing he did was set the box on top of the sink to check that Grillby had turned the water back on upstairs. Lukewarm water spilled from the faucet to trail down his fingers until he turned it off. Of course he had. Grillby was so excited to have him here and all he felt he’d done so far was talk about his sons.

This was their anniversary...and their first one at that! They were supposed to be playing goo goo eyes with sappy background music while they drank a rich, robust, finely aged-- He rubbed the lingering water over his sockets. What could he do? He hadn’t bought any gifts, prepared any sonnets, mused over a playlist, he should have prepared more but he’d wasted the last several days doting on his boys.

There they were again, why were they plaguing his mind so much? He stared at his reflection eyes locked on the black chasm like cracks on his skull. No, no mirrors. He pulled the handle on the corner of the mirror and left it open while he hung his towels over the rail. From inside the box he reassembled the metal basket, filled it back up with soaps and scrubs, then hung it from the shower head. 

Lastly was the bedroom, which had been an invasive thought for the last several days. Bedrooms were for couples, sharing a bed, snuggling under the blankets, his magic stung in retaliation of his clenched jaw, among certain other things. 

When he pulled open the door he was surprised to find two beds on opposite sides of the room. Each had their own nightstand to the left of them and a stand up closet along the right leaving a simple walkway in the center of the room.

Two beds. Well, that was probably for the best.

He decorated his hastily with layers of thick, plush, blankets that had to weigh as much as he did. As if it were sentient he placed the fiery tye dye bunny atop the black covers before he quickly put it back in the box. There was a place for Grillbybean just maybe not there.

The closet door opened with a click of the latch and he quickly filled it with his own clothes trying his best to maintain the level of organized Grillby strived for. Actually, he should try to match Grillby’s method. He made use of his wide stride to meet the closet at the other end of the room. It opened just as easily as the one on his side with a satisfying pop. 

Everything was lined up evenly, color coordinated, with a multitude of profesional to quirky bow ties hanging on the door. It was definitely his wardrobe. The smell reminded him of warm days spent curled up as all the cold of the world strayed far away from them. Of picnics in a wide open field that was blessed by the sun as much as his partner was. He could smell the lingering scent of Grillby’s menu and the salty savory scents of his favorite foods. It was heavenly to him, perfect even, was there a way to bottle it?

With wide sockets he pulled away and shut the door quickly as he did so. Gaster plopped on the bed, that was normal wasn’t it? He’d surely commented on Grillby’s scent before, how without a single lick of flame it reminded him so much of the monster. He laid back stretching his arms against the slick satin sheets.

What was his own scent like? Did it make Grillby as happy as his did him? What if it was bad and he just wasn’t telling him? He could get some cologne or-- he pressed his fists to his sockets,  _ stop it, stop it, stop it!  _ This was a good change, this was something to look forward to, and here he was making it into so much more than it needed to be. 

Grillby was utterly delighted to have him here and he should be excited, he was excited, but it was so difficult to push those voices to the front of his mind. He slipped his head off of the mattress just enough to see his half filled wardrobe, he should finish that… Maybe later.

“Hey dinner’s ready…” Grillby tilted his head to the side slightly as he took in the skeleton splayed in an unflattering position across his bed. “If you want that bed you can--”

‘Oh no,’ he sat up fast enough to make his head rush, ‘I just,’  _ wanted to see your clothes and maybe sniff them? _ There was no way he could say that. ‘The sheets just seemed to be of a really nice quality. I sat down and then sort of just plopped,’ he signed hastily.

He sat on the edge of the bed, “Tired?”

‘A little bit.’

“Well then, why don’t we eat then head to bed early?”

‘That sounds perfect,’ he wrapped his arms around Grillby’s broad shoulders.

“Can I ask you something?” Grillby’s voice was a soft fizz as he leaned his head against Gaster’s as it nodded. “What’s bothering you?”

‘I’m fine,’ he started to sign but Grillby gave him the ‘I know what you are going to say and don’t you dare’ look. He deflated then moved to sit beside him on the edge of the bed, ‘I’m just…’ Stars he was cowardly, this wasn’t a difficult situation, Grillby would offer no mockery for his feelings but putting them in the open always made them harder to suppress.

‘I’m terrified that the more time you spend with me… the less you’ll see that you like.’ He fidgeted with his fingers as an attempt to avoid looking in the standing mirror in the corner. ‘I feel so absurdly different about you than I’ve ever felt about anything in my life and I don’t know what to do with it. I’m terrified of it and obsessed at the same time! I love you so much,’ his shoulders dropped and his hands fell to his lap, but I know whenever this finally goes south it will be my fault.’

Grillby wrapped his hand around the top of Gaster’s, “Thank you for telling me.” He stared off into the distance trying to unscramble the word jumble in his head. “I love you.”

He really could have ended with that, he was so resolute, so firm, in his dedication it was all that Gaster needed to hear but he continued after a brief pause. “It’s an  _ if _ things go south not  _ when _ .” His fingers twitched to sign but Grillby kept his hand firmly atop them, “I forget how new all of this is to you.” He popped a soft chuckle, “It just baffles me that no one scooped you up before now.”

Gaster scoffed receiving a soft kiss on his cheekbone, “So as the more experienced of the pair let me give you a bit of advice: relationships don’t fail because of one person. As long as you openly talk to each other you can get pretty far; even with that though no partnership is perfect.”

‘I think you’ve told me all of this before,’ a pair of hand bullets signed for him as he no longer desired to pull his hands away. It was shortly after Grillby had asked if they wanted to start, or continue, dating, depending on whose perspective you were looking at. ‘I’ll try to remember it this time.’

“Don’t worry,” Grillby rose to his feet then offered his hand to Gaster, “I’ll be here anytime you need a reminder,” he smiled in such a way Gaster wondered if he could throw sparks of his own. He took Grillby’s hand tickled by how effortlessly he was pulled from the plush bed.

Grillby lead him into the living room, “You don’t mind if we eat in here do you?”

‘No?’ Despite the fact they almost always ate at the kitchen table another curiosity had his attention: the couch had been replaced by two recliners.

“Pick whichever you want I’m going to dish up.”

‘Okay,’ he signed lamely. As he stared at the chairs he wondered how difficult it would be to cuddle up together while watching a movie now. That was his first thought? He shook his head, what had Grillby done to him? 

He lowered himself to the chair anticipating the usual crunch to his tailbone that just came as an unfortunate side effect of his species but it never happened. In fact there was a rather perfect firmness to softness ratio. This was absolutely the most perfect chair he’d ever sat in and he couldn’t help but wonder how Grillby had managed such a feat. 

A moment later the monster in question swung by expertly balancing a tray with two dishes on one had while unfolding tv trays with the other. The dish was a delightfully creamy pasta, with peppers that added just the right amount of heat, and hearty slices of the most melt in your mouth steak Gaster had ever eaten. 

He could just about cry it was so exceptionally delicious. No more indescribable pastas, burnt toast, or living on eggs and cereal, this was food, this was nourishment for the soul. Without a word to the wonderful chef he began to ravenously attack the pasta happily devouring each bite while still savoring the scent and the textures.

Everything was so perfect! He stabbed into the plate utterly disappointed that there wasn’t anything left. His teeth tilted to one side as he studied the empty plate before he melted into the comfy chair, ‘It’s not fair!’ He bemoaned.

“What’s not?” Grillby crackled enjoying his food at a much slower rate.

‘I can’t even get fat to show you how much I love your cooking,’ he deadpanned and Grillby tried to remain straight faced, he tried to suppress the crackle like laughter, but he couldn’t and the laugh that Gaster was rewarded was one of such merriment he felt his sockets water with mirth.

It was a bit more dedicated than what was normal for the flame hinting that there was something else to it. He wasn’t as adept at reading magic as his partner but he found what he was looking for: ‘You really are nervous about this aren’t you?’

His eyes widened a little bit as he cut himself off short but then he relaxed into the chair taking a few more noodles off of his plate. “Yeah.”

‘What on Earth do you have to be nervous about?’

“I guess,” he bit at the end of his fork, “it’s that spending more time together you’ll realize how boring I am?” He jerked his eyes away from Gaster as he stared down into his plate, “You’re so bright Bun. Your glow is so much more than my own: you’re smart, adventurous, clever,” he tilted his head back, “stars the compliments you come up with I couldn’t even think of! I’m just… not like you.”

How could Grillby possibly think he would ever find him dull? Maybe they didn’t share a lot of common interests but they worked anyways and they worked well. He tapped his fingers to his teeth as he smiled softly, they did fit together didn’t they? His own fears, anxieties, were always ebbed away by the warmth of the flame and Grillby’s by the chill of his magic. Grillby was light in need of a shadow and he needed that light to feel real. 

He pushed his TV tray to the side, Grillby had done so much for him to cover up his own nerves, and he’d been too preoccupied to appreciate the effort. The bookshelf was for him, no doubt hoping he would fill it to the brim, the beds were for his own shyness, and the chairs for his comfort, everything was for his sake. Gaster walked up to the arm of Grillby’s chair, took the plate from his hands, set it on the tray then fell to his lap. “Bun?”

Without another word Gaster pressed his teeth to Grillby’s mouth letting all of his nerves, his excitement, his wonderment, adoration, and love build in his magic. He could have told Grillby all of this. In fact he was more confident in telling him so, but he knew that his partner could read this as if it was written in the air between them. Gaster hooked his fingers around the back of Grillby’s vest pulling him closer as he fought for a means to deepen the contact. For his efforts he could taste Grillby’s own fear, his desire to do right by them, his want to help, and his own deep passionate love that filled Gaster straight to his soul.

For a change it was Grillby who pulled pulled away to take in the blush across Gaster’s cheekbones and the warmth of his eye lights. A crooked smile cut a rich yellow across his face as he pulled the skeleton into a tight hug. It took a bit of effort but Gaster managed to sign back, ‘I’m glad to be home.’ Which received a pulse of giddy magic and a rolling warmth from Grillby. 

After that they just talked and Gaster found Grillby’s lap to be every bit as comfortable as the chair, which apparently Papyrus had helped to pick out. Grillby had been disappointed they couldn’t find a couch of the same quality as well but Gaster proposed stacking the floor with pillows and blankets if the need so suit them. They talked about their fears, their kids, and how happy they were to have each other until their breath was taken by impressive yawns.

It wasn’t long before Gaster found himself in the bathroom switching into his silky black pajamas and bright purple socks. All of the irritating thoughts had buried themselves away for the night leaving him feeling lighter than he had in days. When he returned to the bedroom he found Grillby already tucked away in his own bed. He lingered in the hallway for a moment before he turned towards his own.

Gaster curled his knees to his chest then pulled the blankets high above his shoulders. He opened his mouth as a habitual good night attempted to escape him but he sealed his teeth. The wonder that was his Font wasn’t exactly the last thing you wanted to hear before bed. He clawed the blankets close to him entombing himself in their fluff which left just his sockets free. 

On the other side of the room Grillby laid in the center of his bed with the sheets pulled underneath his bare arms. An amused smile crossed his teeth as he watched the yellow dim, then the orange, until red tongues began to snake their way across him. He couldn’t help but wonder if there would ever be a day where he grew tired of watching flames.

Well. He hadn’t yet.

Grillby was far too considerate for his own good, the chair, the bookshelf, dinner, he didn’t have to do any of that and he certainly didn’t have to give them seperate beds. For a trial period it was probably the logical solution with how much change tended to bother him. Having his own space to shut down at night was the proper conclusion.

He shut his sockets. Yeah, he liked his nest of blankets adding a bit of weight to his thin bones and since it was obvious Grillby didn’t this would also avoid discomfort between them. He peered over to Grillby’s toned back and wondered briefly how it would feel to press his sternum against it. 

How on Earth would he be able to sleep with Grillby’s smokey scent wafting about constantly? He inhaled the smell of his freshly cleaned blankets. Yes, Grillby was very wise to-- oh, who was he kidding?

When had he said that he wasn’t ready to sleep together? There were  _ aspects _ of the phrase he certainly wasn’t ready for but just sharing a bed wasn’t that much different than a couch, or the floor, or the bed of a truck, which even had bed in the title. He could do this. His ribs inflated as he inched his feet out from under the covers. This was why you moved in together, they were going to start sharing spaces, sharing meals, sharing time, and sharing a bed.

If Grillby heard him inch across the floor he didn’t spark a single sign of recognition. This wasn’t a feat of bravery or integrity this was a moment of compassion and love… neither of which he felt he was versed in but he was going to start. Grillby deserved that much.

He didn’t bother crawling under the covers, he needed to make his intent known first, he laid behind Grillby and pressed his sternum directly to his back. His lanky arms wrapped around Grillby’s wide torso and he buried his face at the base of his neck. “Bun?” Grillby crackled.

‘I know I’m squeamish about a lot of things,’ he signed clumsily around Grillby, ‘and there’s a lot of things about being a  _ couple _ being  _ together _ that I don’t know about or I’m not ready for. Thank you for considering my feelings but I’m ready for this.’

Grillby pressed his shoulder further into the mattress to turn and face Gaster, “I’m happy to hear that Bun.” He cupped the side of Gaster’s jaw running his thumb along his cheekbone. For a long time they just stared into each others eyes not daring to speak just basking in the others magic. He couldn’t quite read what the swaying of the tongues across the top of Grillby’s head meant but watching them from so close made his soul flicker in his ribs.

“But the two beds was for me… not you,” he smiled sadly.

That made sense actually. Grillby probably needed time to adjust to something as cold as him being a constant presence, considering how low he burned when he was asleep maybe his own magic could cool-- His thoughts were cut off by two short taps on the side of his skull. “Hey,” Grillby crackled, “don’t start thinking too much.”

Gaster pressed his teeth together as his magic puckered against his cheekbones. “I don’t sleep… very well,” Grillby continued, “nightmares, or night terrors, sleep paralysis, if it’s a fear in your sleep thing I probably have it.” The yellow in his form faded away in either fear or shame but it was needless: Gaster already knew this.

‘You still have nightmares from the war?’

“Sometimes,” he rolled onto his back, “but I just  _ have  _ nightmares,” he gestured lamely before cupping his face. “They aren’t as common as they used to be, not by a long shot, but sometimes I get violent.” Hot blue dashed across his chest like a scurrying mouse desperate not to be seen, “So it’s safer to have two beds… just in case.”

The words fell heavily on his mind, allowing him to feel the weight of his partner’s confession and process it from his perspective. Obviously at that point the correct answer was to accept Grillby’s wishes and return to his side of the room. Logically this was what he wanted to do for him but something felt wrong. Was it selfishness that was dancing across his sternum or was it some ailment of his perpetually twitterpated state?

Like an overly affectionate pup he wiggled his way under Grillby’s arm to rest his head on his, just the right amount of soft, shoulder. Grillby looked at him quizzically but didn’t seem quite sure how to ask. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll keep all the nightmares at bay.’ It had been his favorite job once, a very, very long time ago, he might be a bit rusty but he was more than willing to wear his old hat again.

“Bun…”

‘Yes Star-L-I-N-G?’ Gaster smiled letting the tension drop from his shoulders as if he was already dangerously close to sleep. His hand bullets dissipated as he lost his focus against the warmth of Grillby’s white fleck like eyes. Grillby had always been his star, his beakon in the night, even if the idea had just occured to him it felt right.

Grillby seemed a bit too tired to fully acknowledge the name, or maybe he just hoped Gaster was teasing, but a warm yellow rolled into his shoulders regardless. “I love you.”

He was about to summon his bullets again but he clenched his fingers around his silken pajama shirt, “I love you too.”

“Good night,” Grillby kissed him gently atop his skull.

Gaster stretched his neck just enough to kiss his cheek before he returned his head to the bend of Grillby’s shoulder. It was odd falling asleep so willingly right next to someone. Every inflation of the chest, every twitch, or free falling spark was so plain, so obvious, so… intimate. Before too long their breathing synced and Gaster felt the need to maintain it. He focused on nothing but the up and down of their chests, the sound of the flames gently whispering to each other as the orange fell into a soft red, and the fact that he was here. Sleeping next to an all powerful force of nature that he loved with all of his soul.

Today wasn’t just what he was walking away from. It was what he was walking towards. Change may terrify him but with Grillby, how could his future be anything but bright?


	2. Season of Spooks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grillby and Gaster prepare for Halloween and come face to face with some of their own fears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween everyone!

With a chilling thunk the knife sunk in and cut through to the hollow core in a single effortless movement. The flames on his hand gave a quiet complaint as the pumpkin’s juice retaliated against his attack. He made a sawing motion to cut a circle along the stem and create the lid for his soon to be jack o’ lantern. This activity had been Gaster’s idea but neither of them had seemed to think it all the way through. 

“And now you remove the guts?” Grillby questioned. Just reaching into the gourd he could tell how cold the slimy wet innards were.

‘Yeah, you just--’ Gaster furrowed his brows, ‘oh. I can gut yours if you like.’ He scooped his hands inside of his own pumpkin retrieving a glob of nasty stringy orange mess that made Grillby’s flames pucker. A wisp of green ran through him as it was dropped to the newspaper below with a sickening squish.

Grillby looked over the cheap plastic tools that they gave up on using after realizing how dull they were but the scoop had a decent sized handle on it. “Let me try first,” he took the scoop inside the pumpkin and took out a large chunk that rocked onto his hand as he tried to pull it out of the top. His flames let out a hiss at the unwanted contact.

The process became grueling rather quickly as the long strands coiled around his fingers with the tenacity of a hungry snake. He set the pumpkin aside and stared at it as if it had bitten him, which honestly was comparable to how his fingers felt. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t think this through,’ Gaster’s expression fell a bit as his enthusiasm for the project waned.

Well, that wouldn’t do, he grabbed the goop covered scoop and acted like he was going back to work but the moment Gaster’s head was down he launched a wad of the guts at the side of his skull. It was both hilarious and disgusting the dingy orange it left on the off white bones as it slipped like a slug down his cheekbone. What was undoubtedly hilarious though was the expression on Gaster’s face of utter shock and bewilderment as he stared wide eyed at the flame. A wild, pushing towards mad, series of crackles and pops as he grabbed his sides utterly beside himself with laughter.

Gaster wiped the side of his face the expression never dropping, ‘What was that about?’

Grillby tried to reply or make some coherent noise but his crackling stole his voice. Until a wadded up sheet of newspaper smacked him in the center of the forehead. His laughter subsided but his smile cut across his face wide and yellow.

‘Grillby no,’ Gaster scolded as his flames stoked to brighter shades and higher temperatures, ‘don’t.’

With an effortless pounce he scooped the skeleton into his arms, rolled once across the floor, then drew Gaster into his lap fully entrapping his long limbs as a slew of WingDings giggled from him. He rested his chin in the divots between his partner’s shoulder, a soft crackling sound lodged itself in his throat as he kissed his neck. 

Gaster drew back with a curious expression, ‘Are you purring?’ With his arms still pinned to his sides a pair of hand bullets had to sign the odd phrase for him.

He touched the front of his throat, “No. I don’t… purr.”

‘You were purring!’ Gaster looked positively delighted as he began to free himself, ‘That’s adorable! I knew you were a housecat!’

“I wasn’t purring!” Hot pink leapt through his flames with the fervor of a wild animal on the hunt to snuff out every bit of orange on his form. He looked over to the kitchen clock and sprang to his feet spilling Gaster from his lap, “I need to start decorating the bar.”

‘Don’t change the subject,’ Gaster signed up from the floor.

Grillby tugged off his pumpkin splattered sweatshirt and discarded it to the floor before turning quickly to the bedroom. He pulled on a t-shirt he didn’t remember owning as Gaster threw Gillby’s sweatshirt and the band T-shirt he borrowed from Papyrus into the dirty laundry. He rolled up the sleeves to the button down he’d been wearing underneath, ‘Mind if I help?’

“Of course not,” Grillby smiled as he ran his thumb across the pumpkin remains that had dried into a sticky paste across his cheekbone, “might want to wash that off first though,” he teased.

It seemed he had forgotten all about it as he absentmindedly peeled a pumpkin seed off of his jaw. ‘Probably a good idea.’ He quickly turned on his heel and headed down the hall to the bathroom with Grillby not far behind as he stumbled into a pair of shoes.

Shortly after Gaster turned into the bathroom Grillby heard a sound. It wasn’t one he was particularly familiar with but it was otherworldly and came with a chilling temperature. Reflexively he leapt into the bathroom wrapping his arms around the muzzle of a giant draconic skull.

Thin sliver like eyelights turned their gaze away from the caster and down to the monster entrapping it. This particular magic made his flames run cold, something about the way it chattered its’ teeth, the way it glared down to him, just seemed so… alive. 

It was a mirror to a Gaster he didn’t remember but why was it here now?

The pulsing black ray the magic emitted seemed to have been calmed for now. With his arms more akin to jelly than flame he let go giving the attack a pat on the side as a thanks for not blowing up the bathroom. “Gaster?”

Gaster turned to him his pale gray bones tinted with purple as he stared with his eyelights extinguished. ‘I forgot,’ his hands moved with so little purpose they were almost impossible to read.

“What?” Grillby’s breath was much heavier than he felt necessary.

He laughed in a giddy half nervous way, ‘I’m terrified of spiders.’ His eyelights flicked back on as purple burned fully into his cheekbones.

His flames flickered and swayed as he stared at his partner trying to piece together what each of the hand signs meant. ‘Spiders?’ He looked over to the sink to see a rather unextraordinary dark brown spider hiding in the bend of the silver faucet. Grillby looked around the bathroom and grabbed a cup from the sink.

‘Don’t touch it!’ Gaster signed hastily.

“I’m just gonna take it outside,” Grillby spoke slowly as if the spider were some sort of sound activated bomb. There wasn’t anything remotely intimidating to him about the beady eyed creature looking up at him with judging eyes but in that moment he was scared. His soul was pulsing as he carried it down to the bar and released it gently into the grass outside the door.

A nervous laugh escaped him as he stood in the middle of the early morning hours on the concrete walkway: what was that about? He looked up to the living room window hoping to catch a glimpse of Gaster. This was a monster who lived through war, who climbed up to nauseating heights on thin branches, snapped pictures at point blank range of dangerous creatures, and what got him, what truly sent a shiver up his spine, was a bug.

When he had enough of the cool autumn air and the scuttling of dried leaves across the asphalt he turned back to the bar and got to work decorating with hopes Gaster would come down once his nerves had settled.

Halloween was an odd holiday. When monsters began to be accepted as a normality of human life the holiday was basically thrust to them as ‘their’ holiday. Which was laughable since no one in the Underground had ever celebrated it. Sure they had seen the costumes, the lights, the discarded decorations, and buckets but it wasn’t their holiday. The gesture didn’t change the way humans celebrated as they still dressed their children in ‘monstrous’ attire and sent them begging for candies.

Throughout the week he’d been asked over and over if Grillby’s was going to stay open. Of course it was. This wasn’t his holiday or anything he really looked forward to but a monster ran establishment on Halloween was always in high demand. He made a point to decorate the night before so the bar seemed transformed as if by magic. At least that was his hope. 

All of the boxes had been pulled out of storage and set on the bar by the time Gaster came downstairs with his face free of the orange goop. “Hi Bun, how are you--”

He took a breath and held his hand up, ‘Can we talk about it later?’

To anyone else it might have seen snappish and rude, Grillby was just trying to show concern, maybe it was those things but he knew Gaster was just a bit too embarrassed to bring it back up. “Do you want the tables or the bar?”

‘Well,’ Gaster grabbed one of the boxes labeled table, ‘I know how particular you are about your bar.’

Conversation while they worked was a bit clumsy even with a set of bullets floating beside him. Gaster was getting better at multitasking but occasionally the hands that bobbed beside him would mirror the actions of their caster and knock into the wall behind the bar. Which only occasionally became problematic whenever they would bump into bottles or glass that would then tumble from the shelf.

“You’re sure you’re alright just hanging out with your boys for Halloween?” Grillby strained as he stood on tiptoes to reach the highest shelf trying to pin the orange and black tinsel along the wood. The hands that he was waiting for a response from grabbed the end of the tinsel to hold it flush. “Thanks,” he called to Gaster.

He tapped the thumbtacks into place and stepped back to check that they were all hung straight. The poor little bats that clustered on the strand were crinkled from their time in storage but his touch was definitely not meant for thinning out scraps of plastic.

Even if Halloween wasn’t _ his  _ holiday this year the forceful origin didn’t bother him as much when Gaster seemed to be enjoying himself so thoroughly. Gaster was wearing a strand of the same tinsel he’d just pinned up around his neck like a scarf and was covered in far too much of the glitter from the sparkly pumpkins he’d hung from the benches. 

Grillby watched, distracted from his own task, as Gaster bounded from table to table with an uncharacteristic amount of energy laying down a purple and black checkered blanket before a glass encased black candle. Every movement was so precise it looked like a dance step: from the way he swayed to retrieve something from the box to the precise way he separated the cotton to make a spider web like cushion for around the candles base. 

“Looking good,” Grillby smiled with his hands on his hips.

‘Thanks,’ Gaster looked proudly over his work, ‘I made sure everything was perfectly centered.’

“I wasn’t talking about the decorations,” he crackled cockily.

Gaster furrowed his brows with thought so much so that a wrinkle appeared under his sockets, ‘Oh!’ He swiped the glitter away as best as one could remove glitter from their person, ‘sorry I opened the box and it kind of just went everywhere.’

_ Still oblivious,  _ Grillby sighed but his fond smile didn’t falter.

‘What’s next?’ Gaster signed after failing to brush the orange glitter off of his black button down.

“That box has the decorations for around the candles,” Grillby gestured before he grabbed a strand of purple and orange skull lights to pin around the bar. “Hey is it odd for you guys to see all of these skeletons everywhere?”

His handy helpers pulled up close to him, ‘Though odd I don’t feel particularly bothered by it unless the display is distasteful. I think Papyrus absolutely adores the extra attention: have you seen his Halloween display?’ Grillby chuckled, he had seen the lawn littered with plastic skeletons all decked out in ‘cool and spooky’ shirts, skull and crossbone flags were proudly displayed on every corner of the house, and the usual christmas lights were replaced with ones similar to what he was holding now.

“And Sans?”

Gaster sighed, ‘Even I don’t know what that boy thinks most of the time.’ That was a fair answer. He finished pinning the lights around the bar and sat on a stool. 

Gaster reached into the box he was working from to retrieve a smaller brown box with a lid.

“Wait,” Grillby practically fell off of the barstool as he reached in front of him.

He stared befuddled at the display but held the box out to him, ‘What’s the matter?’

It was the box Grillby had thought it was, “I just didn’t want you to get surprised.” He reached in the box and pulled out a small plastic spider.

Gaster scoffed, ‘I know the difference between a toy and--’ Grillby grabbed a handful of spiders from the box but still didn’t scrape the bottom of it, ‘ah. No. That warranted a warning I think.’ He took the box back and opened the lid his teeth clamped shut before he retrieved a handful and scattered them across the table. ‘Ridiculous isn’t it?’ After careful consideration he repositioned the spiders within the web then moved to the next table.

“Surprising I suppose but not ridiculous,” Grillby shrugged. A lot of folks suffered from a fear of spiders, what was the word? Something phobia. He strained to find it but knew the effort was pointless. 

‘Oh please, don’t spare my feelings,’ he placed one fist firmly on his hip, ‘I just about blew up the bathroom sink without a second thought.’

“Well you told me not to ask,” Grillby placed his hands in front of himself defensively.

Gaster was about to argue but whatever his counter it seemed to have disproven itself. ‘Fair.’ He finished decorating the cobwebs with as few spiders as possible before he sat on the edge of a booth. ‘Between the pumpkin guts, the glitter, and spiders I’m going to need a shower after this.’

“Just dry off before bed,” Grillby smiled pulling a chair out from a table to sit in backwards. 

Several heavy breaths later Gaster began, ‘During the war I apprenticed under the Royal Alchemist who happened to be a spider monster of some sort.’ He had an air about him like whatever he was saying didn’t matter or didn’t bother him but it was obvious by the tight lock on his jaw that it did. ‘He was very, very particular about locked doors though. If it wasn’t locked it was an invitation. This extended to things like chests and drawers.’

‘He gave me a key to my bedroom door and if I didn’t lock up before bed I would awake to find all of his… lesser spiders? Anywhere and everywhere in massive swarms,’ if he had a nose it would be wrinkled beyond recognition. As it was a rattle ran up his spine and seemed to jitter in his shoulders.

‘And sometimes when I forgot he’d be sitting on the edge of my bed just casually perusing through my research notes before I woke up,’ at that he seemed more agitated than actually bothered. ‘Who does that?’ He scoffed nearly falling back into the booth having forgotten he was sitting the wrong way in it. ‘So,’ he coughed fixing his posture, ‘I don’t like spiders.’

There was probably more to the story but he wasn’t going to pry any further. He was just grateful to have been given an explanation. As much as he loved him the skeleton was keen on keeping most of his past to himself. Grillby would never say it aloud but it hardly seemed fair when Gaster seemed to know everything about him. His shoulders slouched as he wondered if it was somehow his fault the monster was so prone to secrets. Had he done something in the past to imply he didn’t care?

“Thank you for telling me,” he smiled softly his glow dimming with fatigue, “I’ll do my best to keep all the scary spiders out of the house.”

Gaster tried to hide his smirk, ‘Just don’t tell me about it.’ He rested an arm lazily across the table, ‘So Starling, got any fears I should know about?’

Starling. Gaster didn’t use it as commonly as Grillby referred to him as Bun. There was an entire lecture around explaining the name: something about the correlation of Bun being hun so it made since to pun it as well? He wasn’t exactly sure what he thought of the name but he was more than happy to be Gaster’s ‘guiding star’.

They were talking about fears, he put his mind back on the right track. Grillby tilted his head back throwing around a few ideas, “Freak rain storms with high winds make me excessively nervous, like I can’t trust the walls to stay standing.”

‘Well, I guess I’ll just have to hold you close on those days,’ he smiled softly; his oval eyelights rounded to circles.

“Tight places, crowded places, sometimes just rooms that are a bit too hot bother me but I don’t know if it’s a fear exactly.” Why was he telling him this? Gaster knew about his claustrophobia. He had to! But as he sat across from him he gave no indication that he’d heard this before, that he knew.

Which he did. There wasn’t anything Grillby could tell him about himself that Gaster didn’t already know. He was the only one that had to poke around for answers, that had to find ways around the skeletons aversions, and that was-- He shook his head, it was late, and he was tired just looking for something to be grumpy about. “Can we head to bed? I need to open tomorrow.”

‘Sure,’ Gaster signed with knitted brows. ‘Go ahead and go to bed. I’ll join you shortly.’

Grillby started up the steps rubbing at his eyes, “I might just take you up on that this time.” He loved to sit outside the bathroom and listen to the shower run. It was just another little touch of Gaster being there like the mugs, the crumbs on the tables or counters wherever he stood to eat something real quick, or the divot that was working its way into the mattress from Gaster’s boney shoulder, but tonight, he was just tired. 

They exchanged a quick good night kiss outside the bathroom door before Grillby slothfully discarded the t-shirt in the corner of the room and slipped into a pair of cotton shorts. He used to sleep in a different manner but with how formally dressed for bed Gaster always was it felt wrong to not apply some modesty. He pushed Gaster’s blankets aside to lay with the sheets tucked up to his armpits.

He hadn’t been cross at all had he? Maybe he should stay up to apologize but the thought never made it to his limbs.

* * *

This was what it felt like to be held underwater. 

All around him monsters, people without faces or features were painted in shades of grays the cobblestone below him was splattered red. He shouted as loud as he could over the crowd but his voice was stolen by those gathered around him.

There was just enough of a circle around him for the others to pass by without touching him but when he reached out they recoiled as far away as they could muster sometimes even colliding with others. It didn’t matter how he tried to move forward someone would always block his way.

From his small circle he called out again, and again, and again, but he couldn’t hear himself so how could they? The red below grew more vibrant and snaked its way into his legs. He kicked and scratched with his toes trying to scrape it off until he fell. 

The cobblestone shattered around him and he found himself plunged into an empty space made of gray. He called into the air a name made of static like noises and this time he heard it.

A pure black pumpkin bloomed in front of him in a whisper and he claimed it.

They walked together every step a chore until they found others. These strangers towered over him looking down with beady eyes and not much else. He moved cautiously along the steel street between them as a shadow stretched further and further behind him.

What was he doing? Why was he here? He clung to the pumpkin as if it had answers but his focus was on all of the eyes. Constantly watching unmoving, unflinching, as he passed along the way his feet tap, tap, tapping on the cold metallic walk.

At the end of the road was nothing but darkness that plunged off in every direction. His path now seemed like a diving board to the abyss. He held the pumpkin out in front of him, eyeing it with a bored gaze. There wasn’t any reason for him to have taken it this far, there wasn’t even a point of picking it up in the first place, and now he was so far out of his way he was lost.

He stretched his fingers out until only his palms were gripping it. Finally it dropped into the darkness below. Within seconds it was swallowed.

A heaviness settled in his chest like lead but as he turned to walk back the way he came the monsters he’d passed were suddenly alive and vivid with warm welcoming eyes and features. They praised him for a job well done, cheered for his accomplishment, and welcomed him openly. As he was paraded around town the lead like feeling grew in his chest, heavier, and heavier, until he had to sit.

His soul was pounding, wriggling, writhing in agony but he couldn’t describe it to the kind monsters around him. Every attempt to stand failed against his noodle like legs which smacked him harder and harder against the frigid metal plate like a magnet to its’ mate.

Like a ripple in water suddenly he was alone again. He called out for the friends he’d made, but no one came. His call was answered by a drop of black rain stinging against his shoulder. Then another. And another. Black raindrops twisted agony against his form, made his flames flare and fight against his inability to move. They erupted into a storm letting loose a downpour of black daggers straight through him.

His breathing caught in his throat as he tried to remember how to breath. Sharp sounds bit at the inside of his head like a sword against stone. A cold grip around his shoulders stung as distinctly pointed features dug into his shoulders. His eyes opened sharply against the pain to see a worried skeleton clinging desperately to him.

Grillby shook his head as the brightly lit room illuminated the concern in Gaster’s face. Once he finally settled his body limp against the mattress he watched Gaster’s thin fingers flick some sort of a message to him but he was far too tired to read it. 

That was Gaster. Gaster’s face. Gaster’s hands. Gaster’s big black blanket. His soul thrummed in his chest even as most of the dream faded from memory. “What are you trying to say?” He rubbed at his eyes trying to get the white of his partner’s bones to come into focus.

The hands moved again and Grillby lowered them with his hand, “Justtellme,” he slurred groggily. He felt the hands try to move again but he held them still looking into Gaster’s sockets as the only thing he could truly see. Deep violet tears festered at the base of those sockets and Grillby sat up with realization, “I am so sorry!” 

What had he done? Was he thrashing? He checked the blankets around him but nothing seemed scorched there was an unhealthy amount of soot that fluttered into the air as he flipped the sheets over. “Are you okay?”

His hands made some form of a response but he couldn’t see much more than a fusing and unfusing blur. Grillby sighed while he grabbed his glasses off of the night stand. “What time is it?” The level of brightness in the room made it look like midday but his alarm never went off.

Gaster sat up, ‘Not time to be up yet,’ he supplied with a wince in his sockets.

Grillby looked out the window to see the dark of night still lingering outside of the window. The lamps were still off so where-- oh, realization struck him and he tried to lower the brightness of his flames but he couldn’t calm his soul. He rubbed the sides of his face, “Go back to sleep Gaster.” With heavy legs he slipped off the bed taking a moment to gain his balance.

‘Where are you going?’

“I’m not going to be able to go back to sleep,” he muttered suddenly aware of how thickly his flames were talking over him. It was a wonder Gaster could even understand him.

‘What was your dream about?’

For a moment he entertained the thought of sharing but describing something like that was difficult. Something with a pumpkin, black rain, it was hardly what most folks took a fear response to. “I don’t remember,” with that he tugged the door shut behind him and took his blinding brightness with him.

The whole house was aglow in his wake. He studied the books on the shelf but recognized that he didn’t have the mentality to focus on small print. Instead he plopped in the window seat and placed his head against the cool glass a bit tickled to see the patch of light in the wet grass below.

What was the dream about? He was carrying a pumpkin, a black pumpkin, that he dropped into an abyss, which made black rain? He looked at the subtle moisture built up on the window. His head tapped against the wall as he rubbed his face. Gradually his glow diminished as he stared into the night sky.

After it had settled for a while he heard the bedroom door open but it hesitated a long while before it shut. Not a single foot step clipped against the carpet before Gaster poked his head around the corner, ‘Feeling any better?’

Was he? His soul wasn’t racing anymore but the lingering frustration still boiled in his core, “Yeah, I’m alright. Sorry to scare you.” Gaster shook his head no, “It’s okay you can say that I scared--”

Gaster’s fingers caught his attention and caught his voice, ‘You’re not alright.’

“It was just a dream, hardly even a nightmare,” Grillby smirked resting against the corner.

‘Then come back to bed,’ his smile was so warm, so genuine, Grillby just about took the offer.

“I’m not going to get back to sleep. I just can’t once I wake up that’s that,” he stretched as if the fatigue in his joints wasn't there.

Gaster’s posture was easy enough to see: he’d worn it himself many times, the look of a tired parent trying to coax a child back to sleep. Gaster picked Grillby’s legs up from the bench and set them on the floor so he could lay against him. ‘What was the dream about?’

“Nothing Gaster,” Grillby sighed, “a pumpkin carving session gone wrong? I don’t know.”

‘Okay,’ Gaster signed resolutely. He wrapped his hands around Grillby’s arm and nuzzled his cheekbone against his shoulder. After a little while socked feet locked against his ankles and the weight against him grew heavier. He was trapped. Any slight jostling would risk waking Gaster.

He didn’t remember falling back to sleep but when he woke up he was wrapped in Gaster’s thick black blanket and the sun was coaxing his flames to wakefulness through the window. The blanket had the lingering scent of coffee and a mustier earthy tone that nearly sent him back to sleep, everything felt so pleasant, comfortable, and safe but the sound of peeling vegetables caught his attention.

Not far in front of him Gaster was working on his pumpkin carving an intricate net like pattern from the top to the bottom. It was almost perfect in scale and proportion from one section of the net to the next. The scent of pumpkin was in the air again which reminded him of Gaster’s shocked expression as the guts hit his face. He crackled lightly to himself which caught the skeleton’s attention.

Gaster smiled softly up to him his bones popping as he stood up just enough to grab Grillby’s glasses off of the plant’s stand. “I love you,” the plant spoke as Grillby put his glasses back on.

A bit dissatisfied by the want he reached forward and tapped the flower himself, “I love you.”

He chucked fondly at the gesture as he leaned against the bench, ‘I got the vegetable preparations done for the morning so you don’t need to worry about it.’ Vegetable prep? What was he-- the sun was up! He needed to get going on-- ‘I have the bread proofing and the counters ready to receive your glorious concoctions. Don’t worry though I didn’t try to do any actual cooking. Just preperations,’ he smiled fondly.

Grillby glanced around for some surface with a clock on it, ‘It’s just a little bit past eight. You’ve got a good hour before you’ll need to get to work.’ Gaster read his mind then summoned toast from the bookshelf, ‘It’s nothing like what you make but I can manage toast.’

Once Grillby took the slice Gaster turned back to his pumpkin and started carving away at it, ‘While I was down there I thought a few pumpkins would look nice in the window so I started working on this again. Hope it didn’t bother you.’

“No, it didn’t,” Grillby took a bite of toast the crumbs of which burned as they fell down him.

‘Good.’

Was he in trouble? Did he say something last night? He rubbed his face and removed the blanket from himself folding it until it could fit beside him on the bench. “Are you okay?”

‘Are you?’ Gaster looked to him with a bit of sterness.

“Yes, you don’t need to keep asking me,” Grillby sighed.

‘You keep telling me, and reminding me, and helping me realize how important communication is between us but I can’t help but feel it has been a bit of a one way street.’

“Bun.”

‘Starling.’ They stared into each others eyes without any real intent or meaning other than establishing a connection. Gaster wasn’t going to move on this but what was there to say? He didn’t have anything he was keeping from him or that he was just afraid to tell him. ‘Please, you can’t be so afraid to hurt my feelings. I know I’m a mess but I am an adult.’

Grillby pulled his head back in surprise, “I don’t think you’re a child.”

‘Then why won’t you tell me about the dream? Even if it’s just something insignificant. You wouldn’t have told me how nervous you were about me moving in if I didn’t ask.’ Gaster folded his hands in his lap staring at his pumpkin as if it had just insulted him, ‘And last night… I thought we were having a conversation then you just.’

His shoulders dropped, ‘Why do you get so upset when I talk about the past? Or even when I don’t. I don’t know if I’m supposed to tell you when something comes up or if I should keep it to myself because your reactions are so varied.’

“No I--” He did. Maybe not at first but thinking about a life he had with him that he couldn’t remember always made his metaphorical blood boil. It was frustrating. It did upset him that he didn’t remember but… that wasn’t it… he wasn’t angry. “Oh,” he said ever so eloquently, “oh,” he repeated his prose.

‘We’ve got some time,’ he signed slowly, ‘if you’re willing to talk.’

A million excuses flooded through his head: he just woke up, it had been a rough night, he should probably get ready for work, give him a minute to collect himself, and he knew whatever he came up with Gaster would respect then the subject would be dropped. But that wasn’t fair. Gaster had been working so hard on telling him things, usually on his own time, but he was trying. It was his turn to speak openly without being caught in the act and forced to explain himself.

“I thought… of something else I’m afraid of,” Grillby’s fingers snagged against his knuckles as he leveled his eyes with Gaster’s. “I’m afraid you’ll never forgive me.”

Gaster pushed his pumpkin further along the newspaper he’d laid down. ‘Grillby trust me there’s nothing to forgive.’

His flames began to dance with green and gray tips, “I  _ forgot _ you Gaster.”

Gaster tried to hide how preposterous he thought the statement was but it slipped through the seams of his mask, ‘That’s not your fault. You had no power in the situation, how on earth could I blame you for that?’

“Because I should have been able to remember Dings,” his fingers pulled against his thighs, “the monster I grew up with, the one that kept me grounded, that drank with me, that stuck by my side no matter what. I loved that monster but…” he covered his face, maybe some other time of the day he’d be able to talk about this in a rational matter but this was not that time, “I forgot him… as if he meant nothing.”

“I feel so stupid making you play pretend that we’re just some newly met couple,” his shoulders bounced as he crackled, “we met at the bar right? The day you were planning on leaving but some  _ complete stranger _ managed to change your mind.”

Gaster rested his hand atop Grillby’s knee as soot began to waft about him, “I can’t imagine what it feels like watching me confess these deeply personal things when you already know them!” He shook his head, “Sometimes I feel like you’re mocking me, ya know? The way you pretend everything about me is somehow interesting.”

He hadn’t realized how much it was bothering him, how much it hurt, how sickeningly sorry he was, but now it was all out and he was forced to stare at the ugliness of it.

‘Grillby.’ Gaster’s shoulders slouched, ‘I accepted every hardship that came with my fall as being my fault. It was impossible at first for me to believe anyone would allow me to be in their presence once they knew… that I knew.’ He sighed moving up to sit atop the blanket on the bench, ‘So I got really good at pretending I didn’t know things like the secret recipe for cinnamon butterscotch pie, that I didn’t know why Papyrus was such a natural worrier, the look on the King’s face after taking the life of that child, or anything really.’

‘But I realized something about you in particular,’ Gaster’s smile chased away the greens of his flames, ‘I experienced your nightmares first hand a long time ago but only because you didn’t know you had them. Your claustrophobia however, you knew about but didn’t tell me until we were wedged between some stalagmites in a narrow corridor.’ He squeezed Grillby’s hand, ‘You didn’t ever want me to know things like that about you.’

‘So, hearing you tell me about them, try to express to me these issues  _ before _ they become a problem, it means a lot to me.’ He looked him in the eyes, ‘The Grillby from before wouldn’t have ever told me. ’

“Please, there’s nothing different about me,” Grillby popped. He was a relic of time gone by in both body and mind, the only thing that had changed about him was that he was a father now. 

‘You emote with your flecks and mouth a lot more than you used to, your guard is a lot lower than it once was, I guess,’ he looked up to the ceiling for a moment, ‘you’re just a lot more open then the Grillby I knew.’ His expression grew rigid, stern, so quickly it was like he became someone else in that moment, ‘I’m sorry I never considered how you felt about all of the weirdness associated with me just existing again.’

“It’s not your fault I never said anything about it.”

‘No. I should have considered it.’ He hummed with his sockets shut, ‘Okay. Moving forward if you have any questions about the past I will try to answer directly. There are somethings,’ he tapped his fingertips together and spread them wide, ‘I’m just not ready to tell you about yet. Things I’ve never had to  _ tell _ you because you knew but even so: I will tell you when it’s something I don’t feel comfortable answering.’

“Yeah,” Grillby smirked, “that might help some.” It didn’t remove the fact that he forgot but just like any couple he was curious about what the monster was like before he met him, for the second time.

‘In return however,’ Gaster folded his arms and stared very poinently to his partner before signing again, ‘you have to keep all the spiders out of the house.’

Grillby crackled a short popping fizz of a laugh, “Is that really a fair trade? We have a lot more history then this house has spiders.”

‘Grillby,’ he pulled close enough the chill of his magic pressed against the warmth of his flames, ‘I really dislike spiders.’

They locked eyes just daring the other to laugh first but this time it was Gaster that caved burying his face in the side of Grillby’s chest. Grillby wrapped an arm around him playfully pulling him off just enough to look him in the eyes, “I’ll start on that tomorrow though.”

‘Tomorrow?’ His voice would have squeaked if he’d allow himself to speak.

“A bit of spiders on Halloween is perfect.”

‘No.’ A wide yellow smile cut a jagged line across his face, ‘Grillby don’t you dare!’ Gaster flinched as Grillby scooped the skeleton effortlessly into his lap successfully pinning his limbs. Grillby hastily ran his fingers in a drumming motion along his ribs, surprised his fingers never found their way into the empty space between each bone, as WingDings squealed into the air in a short choppy laugh. Which was just the right amount of fright for a day like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really thought updating this more often would result in shorter chapters... I was mistaking. Hope you all enjoyed and I hope you all have a good Halloween.


	3. Season of Thanks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grillby and Gaster get all of their friends and family together for a picnic before the weather gets too cold. Much to Grillby’s surprise everyone actually shows up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a story I have wanted to put in this series for a lon time but I was rather nervous the fact it wasn’t exclusively Gaster and Grillby interacting wouldn’t bode well. But I also felt it was important to include in their story so now that there are more chapters I finally set myself to it. And I hope you enjoy.

The news had declared it an ‘unseasonably warm’ week at the end of November, which made it perfect for one last outing before the winter winds forced Grillby to withdraw into his home. It had taken quite a bit of work to throw together at such a short notice but they were finally going to have the giant picnic they’d talked about ages ago. Everyone was going to be there bringing their best dishes which seemed to be what had Gaster’s magic sending waves of excitement into the air. It was such a good feeling Grillby found himself shooting sparks without even realizing it until they were wafting lazily around him.

“Okay, how about this one?” He ran his thumb down Gaster’s first finger on the hand he was holding.

‘Ah,’ a pair of hand bullets signed while Gaster chuckled, ‘that’s what I call proof I’m not an engineer.’ His smile was earnest as he recounted trying to build a section of the Core himself until an incident with a bandsaw nearly cost him a finger. ‘Luckily I was living in the Dreemurr’s basement at the time and got to Toriel fast enough to save it.’

“Not gonna lie, I kinda thought you sort of just magic’d the Core together. I didn’t think it was anything dangerous.”

‘There was magic too but it still had to be constructed by hands… just ones more skilled than mine.’

“I doubt there’s such a thing,” yellow swam in streaks along his face as he grinned.

‘I would argue that there was not a mind to compare to mine,’ he straightened his posture and his eyes fell into his confident scientist mask, ‘but the actual construction was not a strong suit.’

The trees above rained crinkled leaves in diluted flame tones down upon them as a soft wind kicked up the valley. Lake Ebott’s diluted gray blue water sparkled invitingly in the sunlight. From atop the hill they could see their friends had already gathered around the picnic area. Toriel was busy at work dressing the table and placing large spoons in the slow cookers, Sans seemed to be keeping her entertained, judging by the way her muzzle was wrinkled, Papyrus was in the middle of a rock climbing contest with Undyne who was being cheered by Dr.Alphys, and fiddling with the grill was Asgore. For a moment his flames cooled, he knew Asgore had been invited but there was a part of him that had hoped he wouldn’t show.

His pigments jumped to fluorescents as he saw a bright green peek out from behind the rocks that were being scaled. He squeezed Gaster’s hand excitedly.

He couldn’t believe it, she was finally going to meet Gaster, whatever disappointment that had come from seeing Asgore was erased at the sight of his little girl. “That’s my Fuku.”

‘Wow,’ his smile was cautious but sincere, ‘she takes after her dad doesn’t she?’

“No, she’s her own flame.” The leaves rattling about in the soft wind mimicked the feeling in his stomach. Fuku was finally going to meet Gaster. He set the cooler he was carrying down to mess with Gaster’s jacket. Of course the one time the monster isn’t a jacket short of a three piece suit would be now. His short black faux leather jacket was over a purple turtleneck sweater that tended to bunch oddly around his missing midsection. 

Gaster smacked his hand away when he tried to reposition the collar on the sweater, ‘What is wrong?’

“I just… I thought I’d have more time to prepare.”

‘You invited her,’ Gaster scoffed.

“And she’s dodged every invite! I didn’t think she’d actually come.”

With a feather soft touch Gaster wrapped his hand over Grillby’s shoulder, his eyes a deep violet as he smiled wordlessly up to him for a while. The sloshing leaf fight in his stomach subsided as he took in the violet eyelights; he hadn’t even noticed the green patches in his flames. Just as softly as the initial touch he moved both of his hands to Grillby’s pale yellow bow tie, ‘I promise, I’ll be on my best behavior.’ He ran his hands down the matching suspenders stopping as they met his brown slacks, ‘Aren’t you glad I talked you out of that tweed jacket now?’

“Yeah,” he flushed hot pink for a split second. Fuku hated that tweed jacket. She had teased him time and time again about how old it made him seem. 

‘I promise you… I really want this to go well too.’

They shared a quick kiss before they made their way down the hill both sharing faces painted with blush as they realized they had been spotted. It was rare for Grillby to be embarrassed but he found himself slipping out from Gaster’s grip. “Fuku,” he called once he was confident his voice would carry. He set the cooler down so he could spread his arms out wide and he was so happy to find them filled with a glowing green light, “I missed you so much.

“You say that every time dad,” she crackled hugging him back.

“And it’s true,” he squeezed her tight before holding her at arms length, “every single time.”

“I know,” a hot yellow line cut across her face as she smiled up to him, “and I missed you too.”

Stars, it felt like ages since he had seen her. They video talked during his breaks but other then that he hadn’t seen her in person since the firework party several months ago. It was a relief to see her greens so vibrant and her coal black eyes just as dark as always. Without even asking he could tell she was as happy and driven as always.

Long gone were the days she needed him to help stabilize her own heat. How could he be so proud yet so sad at the same time?

A subtle tap on his back by a phantom finger caught his attention, ‘Right,’ he signed before he corrected himself. “Fuku this is,” should he say my partner? Was that too formal? It was certainly too serious…

‘I’m WingDings Gaster, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you,’ he smiled his most charming smile as he extended his hand, ‘I’ve heard a lot about you.’

“Hello Gaster, I’ve heard a lot about you too,” she slid her hands behind her back and smiled widely. To anyone else it was a feign of shyness but Grillby knew it was a direct avoidance. “Oh Dad, I have a lot to show you!” She pulled out her phone to retrieve evidence of whatever it was.

‘I hope you don’t mind but I looked at your school online and I saw the article they wrote about you,’ Gaster continued having caught on to her farce, ‘your work is utterly fascinating and I would love to hear about it.’

What article? What work? The coffee shop she worked at part time? “I would too…” Grillby’s voice trailed off.

“That’s what I was just getting ready to show you actually,” her black eyes leveled into Gaster’s sockets for a moment before they returned to her phone. “Gaster you don’t mind if I show my Dad first do you? I’ve been waiting to show him  _ flame to flame _ for a very long time.”

“Fuku--”

‘By all means go ahead,’ he rested his hand on Grillby’s shoulder, ‘trust me I understand where she’s coming from. Meanwhile, I’ve got a son in need of some adult supervision,’ he glanced up to the tallest rock where Undyne held Papyrus above her head.

“O-okay,” Grillby conceded as Fuku hooked her arm around his and lead him to a shaded table. She plopped on top of the table while Grillby took the bench. 

She held her phone above her head for a moment before bringing it down to his level, “So Dad, remember a year ago when my sociology minor became my second major?”

Major, minor, didn’t really mean anything to him but he understood it as focused studies, he supposed that meant it was more focused than before? “Yeah,” he spoke certainly even if he wasn’t sure they’d had that discussion.

“Well the school has been more than supportive of my little experiment,” she winked, “and it’s finally getting off the ground!”

“That’s great Fuku but what is it?”

“A revival program for Eternals lost during the war,” she spread her arms out wide and shook her hands grandly. He sparked still more than a little lost. “We’ve been going to museums with artifacts left over from the war to find hearthstones and rekindle the Eternal soul within.”

“You’re stealing from museums?”

“No Dad,” she popped, “here let me show you.” She opened her phone back up and showed him a picture of a Mage’s staff worn and decayed from the years, hardly anything like the weapons he knew, and yet, it still made his soul clench. Just the idea that these things had managed to endure the years made him wish he could get physically sick. “And see?” she pointed to an amber orange stone embedded within the staff, “that’s the Hearthstone.”

Mage’s would revert Eternal’s down to their souls to trap them within wands, swords, staffs, just about anything to harness their powers until the soul ran dry. And that was the good option. There was still hope for those encased in weaponry to some day take form again but there was none for those turned to dust and fused with weapons or pottery to imbed their element within them. An Eternal’s soul was a well sought after material. As if binding them for labor jobs wasn’t enough.

“And there’s,” she flipped her thumb across the screen, “the Eternal!” The next image was of a recently rekindled flame burning in a dull red as it adjusted to the world again. It was so small it fit in the palm of her hand but it wouldn’t be long before it was back to full stature. “His name was Searcy and you should see him with a bow of all things!”

“The museums have all been super cooperative and nice,” her green licked with excited yellows, “when it was just me it was a real problem finding pieces of sea glass or ore because I couldn’t do anything but we’ve brought enough back that it’s not a problem anymore!”

“The school was going to tear down an old dormitory but the Sociology department band together to refurbish it into a home for Eternals while they sort themselves out and integrate into society.” Her glossy black shoes swung back and forth as her yellow smile tinted with blue, “So, what do you think?”

Grillby took her phone from her and flipped through the images of the building repairs, of the finished product, each and every Eternal they had gained over the last few months, and a big group shot of six Eternals of varying types with Fuku in the middle. Stars, this was quite the scheme but, “Where did this come from?”

“You, silly!” She rubbed her elbow against his forearm, “Growing up and hearing your stories, you inspired me Dad, and I’m proof aren’t I? That an Eternal can be their own monster.”

“You’re different Fuku,” he rubbed the back of his head, “these were war monsters, they can’t just be like you.”

“Dad, you’re a wartime monster, and you’re doing just fine.” He stared at the group picture, they were all still fairly young, they could learn. “So,” she started again, “what do you think?”

He looked into her coal black flecks, “I don’t see any wind Eternals,” he shook the phone.

She crackled excitedly throwing sparks as she did so, “Don’t get me started! I’ve seen those diamond like hail balls before but no one knows wind magic anymore.”

An old memory played fondly through his mind until it found its’ way to his smile, “They are lively spirits. A bit of good music can be magical too. Woodwinds preferably.”

“Really?” She gasped.

“I don’t know if it will work after years of being sealed but it should work for an eager soul.” He cupped his chin in his fingers, “And you can always leave them out in a windstorm… just, please let an Earthen Eternal handle that.”

She wrapped her arms around him, “I knew you would like it!”

He pat the arm wrapped around his chest, “I’m still not sure you thought this all the way through but they definitely deserve a better fate than those weapons.” There was a proudness glowing across his flames. The fact that his daughter wanted to preserve their kind so strongly was really something special. He still had a bit of unease with the idea, he knew how hard it could be to interact with other Eternals, but she was nothing if not stubborn.

“So that’s my news, what about you?” She slipped into the bench across from him.

He passed her phone back to her. “Nothing out of the ordinary, the bar is going fine, I’ve got a pretty good staff right now--”

“Of both monsters and humans!” She boasted.

Cyan peppered across him, “Yes.”

“I’m proud of you!”

“I’m just hiring whose best for the job.”

“Like that would have stopped you a few years ago,” she folded her arms, “you’re finally getting used to being up here.” Her lime green flames dimmed into an earthy green as she relaxed. He had worried her far before they ever got near the Surface and it just got worse once they did. Maybe he was making progress.

“I think I am,” his white eyes peeked over to her from behind his lenses.

She stretched her arms out behind her, “Well good. Now that we’re caught up I got a pair of brothers to get to pestering.” With that she swung her legs to the side of the bench and bounced to her feet.

“Actually,” Grillby grabbed her arm lightly as she attempted to stroll past, “I wanted to talk to you about Gaster.”

“We talk about him all the time,” she sighed. “Please? Can I go bother my brothers? I haven’t seen them for months.” Grillby sighed and dropped his grip on her arm, “Thanks dad! Love you!”

He sighed and rubbed between his eyes, here he was concerned they’d never see each other. Now they were within sight of one another and the goal seemed just as impossible. She was much more open talking to him about Gaster before it became more serious. Now she avoided the subject as if it were made of water. He pulled his legs over the bench to rest his back against the table.

Down by the lakeside Fuku was glowing bright as she talked to Sans who was sitting on the bank. It wasn’t long before Papyrus and Gaster came over, he caught the sign for ‘happy’ from his partner’s hands but not much else. Fuku nodded and for a second he dared to hope a conversation would start but a mere moment later she was dragging Papyrus off to show him something. Gaster looked up to the table he was sitting at and shrugged.

This was going to be a long picnic.

Gaster chose a seat at the table Toriel had sat up and Grillby made his way to sit beside him just in time to smack his hand away from the icing on the cake. “Desert is the last part of a meal,” he instructed.

‘But it’s carrot cake,’ Gaster explained, ‘so technically it’s a vegetable.’

‘Is not,’ Grillby hastily returned.

‘Of course it is, the main ingredient is carrot.’

‘You’re being ridiculous, that doesn’t change the fact it’s intended for desert.’

There, that caught him to the quick. Try as he might he didn’t seem capable of a counter but that didn’t stop him when Sans lounged on the opposite bench. ‘Carrot cake is a vegetable right?’ Gaster asked with an all consuming grin.

“Of course,” Sans shrugged, “it has carrot in the name.”

Grillby groaned, “But it’s still a desert.”

Sans casually ran his finger along the corner of the cake swiping up a glob of icing to press to his teeth, “Seems Tori used cream cheese frosting so I’d say it’s a breakfast food.”

“No.”

‘Right, like a cream cheese bagel,’ Gaster signed with wicked intent.

“Exactly,” Sans winked.

“I don’t know any of you,” Grillby grumbled playfully.

“What are we arguing about?” Papyrus asked as he strolled up to them with Fuku in tow.

“Carrot cake,” Sans looked up to him from across the table with bright shining eyelights.

“Ah,” Papyrus nodded, “the breakfast vegetable.”

They were all being so intentionally ridiculous he couldn’t help himself but crackle a bit and when Gaster joined in with his odd WingDings laugh it turned into more than just a little crackles here and there. Papyrus smiled fondly as he sat beside Gaster and Sans rested his head against hand, “You two have such distinct laughs.” The pair cut themselves off short glowing their own shades of embarrassment before they managed to calm down.

Fuku joined Sans on the other side of the table without so much as a single word. When Asgore sat down at the far end of the bench Gaster waved him down, ‘Come sit by us!’ 

He did his best not to dim at the prospect, luckily Asgore didn’t seem any more eager than he was, “That is quite alright Gaster I’m fond of this spot.” It was such a thin excuse but Asgore wasn’t ever known for his cunning. For a beat Gaster looked upset before he seemed to snap a few pieces into place.

‘You two never made up did you?’

“No,” Grillby fidgeted with the spoon in front of him, “and it’s too late now.”

Gaster grew quiet as he thought before he picked his hands up excitedly, ‘Well for once I have good news from the past: you two made up before so you can do it again!’ Where Grillby did his best to hide his grimace the skeleton brothers and Fuku were not as polite. 

“Because everything was perfect when you were around right?” Fuku smiled oddly darkly for a flame.

‘I’m sorry?’

“Fuku,” Grillby scolded in his most fatherly tone.

“What?” She rested her elbows atop the table, “I’m sorry I grew up never hearing a single word about this monster who was apparently so incredibly important to you and my brothers that you’d believe his every word.”

‘Brothers?’ Gaster asked with a quick glance between Sans and Papyrus.

That wasn’t how it was, that wasn’t how it happened, his oranges grew sharp as his yellow stoked warmer. Just as he was about to snap Gaster softly placed his hand on Grillby’s thigh in that so soft way of his. Immediately his temperature lowered back down and once it settled Gaster picked up his hands to sign. ‘Fuku, what are your grievances with me?’

“What?” Her flames pitched to the side as her coal eyes narrowed.

‘I mean it sincerely, I wish to know--’

_ No, _ Grillby stated resolutely in his head but no sound came out. This would send Gaster spiraling. He’d been looking forward to this all week and her hot headedness was going to render him a dark cloud on an otherwise perfect day but that soft touch braced his thigh again.

Fuku flickered dangerously waiting for the angry outburst but didn’t receive what she was looking for. “When you were gone you made my father endure everything alone and now he’s madly in love with you?” She clenched her hands into fists, “There were mornings where I had to help him out of bed because he couldn’t bear to do so. So where were you? Why didn’t I hear a single thing about you?”

Grillby was slowly turning a deep navy the tips of his flame danced with gray as he recognized that Fuku had everyone’s attention. He knew he’d explained the void, and the lack of memories because of it to her, did she think it an excuse? Why was she so angry? There was nothing he could think of saying, no gesture that came to mind, in the face of her neon hues.

Gaster’s expression was exceptionally neutral, his magic spoke nothing into the air, and his eyelights were fixed on her flecks. The monster beside him seemed nearly a stranger in how composed he was. Didn’t this hurt? Wasn’t this the opposite of what he’d wanted? How wasn’t he angry? Did he not care that Fuku was making a point to hate him?

“And my brothers,” her shoulders dropped, “you’re their father? You get to just abandon them in Snowdin for years and come back like nothing happened?” The boys squirmed in synchronization falling to their nervous habits in an attempt to mirror their stoic father. “You let everyone suffer on their own and I… I can’t forgive you for that… I’m sorry Dad.”

It was as if all of the air in the park was suddenly bottled and stolen away along with every ounce of sound. Grillby tried to make any sort of noise of argument, of scolding, of something but he couldn’t over the sickness in his stomach. That time alone, it did hurt. He might have clung to the idea that someone was supposed to be there but it didn’t change that all he had were shadows and blanks.

With shame written across every tongue he looked to Gaster, his partner, the one he loved. He’d forgiven him a long time ago for those feelings but it seemed Fuku couldn’t. To his surprise it was Undyne who spoke first, “Dude…” She said oddly soft for her.

A strange whirring sound filled the air as Gaster cleared his throat, ‘Thank you Fuku.’ He took a breath as her flames sparked with yellows, ‘I’m glad to know I’m not the only one holding myself accountable for the lost time.’

“Gaster…” Grillby stared at him in bewilderment but he didn’t turn his head.

‘I love your father,’ his hands shook, saying it in front of so many people all of whom were focused on him was still quite the effort. ‘And your father loves me in spite of what I made him endure alone.’ his ribs compressed sharply, ‘I wish nothing more than to have been there, I  _ should _ have been there for him and for my sons.’

‘I’m sure it looks to you like I just showed up and spun an elegant web of lies to ensnare those around me,’ he picked at his sleeve for a moment as if some loose string demanded attention of him. ‘I… I feel like that sometimes too.’

‘But that’s not what happened,’ Gaster gestured lamely, ‘I can’t even begin to describe how thankful I am for those around me, to have allowed me to come this far, to share their kindness with a monster whose story is as convoluted as Mine,and,’ his eyelight softened rounding into a circle, ‘to even love me despite the ridiculousness of it all.’ Papyrus wrapped his arm around his Father’s shoulder with a tight squeeze and Grillby placed his hand atop his partners meager femur as deep violet tears pricked the base of his sockets, ‘I couldn’t be more grateful.’

Fuku’s flames pitched with cyan as she stared without much of an expression at the skeleton. Just as Grillby was about to speak he was cut off by Asgore, “It’s a human tradition around this time of year to share a good meal and share what we are thankful for. Why don’t we all follow Gaster’s lead and share while we dish up?” 

“Yeah! That’s a great idea!” Of course Undyne was the first to volunteer. Boisterously she declared her thanks as she slapped globs of food on her plate as they were passed to her. It splattered everywhere as she talked more energetically before Alphys took her plate to finish dishing up as plates continued to be passed their way. Undyne was grateful for the sea, the fresh air, the chance to improve herself, and of course Alphys’s patience. 

All eyes fell to Alphys next which turned her yellow a hot pink so Toriel started to speak of new recipes, new friends, and of her school’s continued success. The mood was lightening with each story of the Surface’s triumphs for their kind, Grillby even found himself listening to Asgore’s rather long story about his garden. Sans stood atop the bench to let it be known he was the one talking. 

Of course it turned into a stand up bit that he filled with as many puns as possible until Papyrus dismissed his tom foolery. Then Papyrus followed suit by making ‘better’ puns much to the enjoyment of those gathered. By the time Alphys finally took her turn the food had all been divided up so the monsters could eat as they awaited their turn but all that was left were the two flames.

“Grillby? Fuku?” Toriel tried.

Typically Fuku had no stage fright, unlike her father, but the way her flames dimmed to a foresty evergreen seemed to indicate she had caught a case of it. A fit of shyness never suited her but the days where she would cling to his fingers so nervous for that first day of school were ones he truly missed. She was a fine flaring flame who burnt on passion alone. All the bad days he’d had she was always there to turn his reds orange and blister a sunny yellow across his face.

In a bold display for him he stood up only to immediately regret it when all eyes fell to him. He traced his knuckles as he spoke, “I am thankful for my friends,” he recited with the grace of a first grader in their first play, “and that someone would dare to love me.” That was it for his nerves, he sat down but continued to talk but only in his native tongue:  _ Fuku _ . His flames crackled and fizzed into the rippling sound of a well stoke bonfire.

_ I am so proud of you. You’ve blazed such a brilliant path for yourself and I can’t even begin to understand how I feel about you wanting to save our people. You’re exceptional in all ways.  _ His flames lowered,  _ I’m sorry you don’t care for Gaster… but can you please… give him a chance? _

Fuku sighed standing up, for a split moment he feared she was going to walk away but she stayed firm, “I am thankful for the education the Surface and my father have allowed to me, for the continued health and well being of my family, and for my father. For raising me on his own and worrying every step of the way.”

_ And for putting up with my stubbornness, _ she crackled as she sat back down.

“Well then,” Asgore smiled, “let’s eat!”

The picnic table was filled with warm magic as everyone began to enjoy their food and company. As expected Grillby’s greatest rival Toriel brought a slew of healthy well balanced dishes mostly in the form of thickly stacked sandwiches on fresh baked bread but more interestingly the mini pies stuffed with beef and egg. They were distinctly Toriel which meant they were far too good for him to keep his head chef status.

Though his smokey cheese mini quiches seemed to be going quite readily, especially by a certain skeleton who managed to pick his cooking out almost instantly. When Grillby was cooking this morning he made Gaster stay in the other room. Amongst a menagerie of food he wanted to see if his number one devotee could find his cooking and it seemed he was quite the sleuth. 

Gaster ate happily, his hand bullets were working overtime as he seemed to almost always have something in his hands. After his taste buds were satisfied he tried once again to praise Fuku for her work with Eternals. There was a brief, agonizing, pause before she began to speak eagerly of her work. Which was all it took for Gaster to go into science mode asking a multitude of questions. He even brought up his own experiences dealing with a recently rekindled flame much to Grillby’s embarrassment. Fuku was eating it up readily always quick to throw a jest at her father.

What wasn’t surprising were the dark tears growing at the base of Gaster’s sockets even as his smile was drawn with permanent marker. They’d been outside for a long while now, between the sun, the constant murmur of conversation, the scent of the food, and the varying flavors he was growing overwhelmed. Gently Grillby tugged twice at the back of the sweater collar as if adjusting it but Gaster knew.

A quick, ‘Little,’ danced across his fingers mid sentence before he continued explaining to Papyrus exactly how to identify Grillby’s cooking from Toriel’s. The skeleton family hatched a scheme that next time they all got together for an event like this they should have a cook off. Of course they would be the judges, no one else had the stomach for their cooking after all. 

Once Grillby could make out a soft hesitant rattle he pulled two more times. ‘Fine,’ Gaster admitted his defeat much to the relief of Papyrus and, less obviously, Sans. ‘Fuku it was lovely meeting you and I wish you the best with your Eternal project.’

“Leaving so soon?” She flickered curiously.

“Sorry,” Grillby apologized, “we have some things to get taken care of before the day ends.”

“I’ll call you later,” Fuku smiled with hot blue flames.

“I’ll hold you to it,” Grillby winked as he collected his cooler and headed back to the truck.

Once they were over the hill Gaster began to lean heavily against Grillby, ‘I’m sorry.’

“Don’t start with that,” Grillby scoffed placing his hand on the side of Gaster’s hip and pecking him softly on the cheekbone. Nope, not enough, he nuzzled his face against the turtleneck collar to press it down enough to nuzzle playfully at the vertebrae within. Gaster’s shoulders gave a meager attempt to push him away, “Besides we have a movie night to get to.”

Cuddling up atop plush blankets to watch movies on the tv was becoming a rather indulgent hobby for him. Not only was it an excuse to keep Gaster close but now he caught the references a few of his younger employees were throwing around.

Just as they were about to crawl into the truck a soft flicker of a voice caught their attention, “Dad?!” She put her hands on her knees as she sucked in oxygen. Something about the chemical that they had attempted to douse her with when she was first born had always left her a little weaker physically. Grillby put a hand on her shoulder as if that would assist in any way.

“You,” she sucked in air before standing upright, “you glow different when you’re happy.”

“Thanks?” He tried.

She gave her best attempt at rolling her eyes, “I haven’t seen you truly happy since the day we opened Grillby’s up here and even that only lasted a day or so.” With a subtle dim she rubbed her arms, “When I went away for school in Hotland I was afraid you’d lost it, that I stole it from you.”

“Fuku,” he cupped the back of her arms softly, “of course not.”

Her gaze fell downwards, “The day the barrier broke I expected you to be so elated! You were going to see the sun again! But… you weren’t.” Grillby’s flame stilled in its’ sway she was bringing up things he hadn’t had the nerve to bring up to Gaster again. He was better now, he really was.

“The way you laugh with Gaster, the way you spark at his touches, that ridiculous grin you get when you think he isn’t watching,” she shrugged, “you really love him don’t you?”

“I do.”

“I can tell,” she rocked back and forth for a moment, “because you glow different when you’re happy. So, um, Gaster? Thank you for bringing back my Dad’s glow.”

A strange sound more akin to a sneeze than a cough escaped him, ‘I assure you I haven’t done anything.’

“Well then, apparently you’re just enough,” she sighed. “So you have to keep making him glow alright? If not you’ll have me to deal with.” The sentence was punctuated with a pose reminiscent of Undyne but a bit unsuitable across her frame.

‘I certainly wouldn’t want to do anything ill towards your father… especially with a brilliant flame like you in his corner.’

“Good, I’m glad we understand one another.”

‘Does this mean--?’ He started before he rubbed his face in embarrassment, ‘Nevermind.’

“What?” The two flames asked with a pucker.

It took a few tries for him to communicate with his hands, ‘Do we have your blessing?’

Fuku was awkwardly silent for a, just long enough to be uncomfortable, beat before she crackled with laughter, “My blessing? You’re just as old school as he is!” She bat a few sparks away, “Yes Gaster, you have my permission to date my father.”

As exhausted as he looked Gaster didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around Grillby, a mere second away from a magically charged kiss and Fuku crossed her arms in front of her chest in the sign for stop. “I regret everything.”

Grillby quickly changed targets scooping his daughter off of the ground and into his arms. Maybe today didn’t go exactly as planned but they’d had some good food, good company, and Gaster finally met Fuku. Gaster wrapped his arms around Grillby’s waist joining in on the family hug which made Grillby flicker with recognition. They were becoming a family and he could be nothing but grateful for that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *jazz hands* and there’s autumn part two completed. Let’s see of the three I think the first one is my favorite ^^’ but that might have just been because the Gaster perspective was different. What’s your guys’s favorite?
> 
> Anyways I hope you enjoyed ^^ I plan on posting the Gyftmas chapter sometime early to mid January so I will see you guys then ^^

**Author's Note:**

> Gaster perspective? Yeah I tried it. I expect the majority of updates to still be in Grillby’s perspective but it was important for Gaster to lead this one :P
> 
> I’ll be honest I really didn’t expect such a soft couple dynamic to catch anyone’s interest. So thanks to all of you that enjoy these updates and those that took the time to say so on summer. 
> 
> So here is the deal moving forward: for the next year the updates will occur on or around various holidays. Which basically just means there will be more updates this time around ;) I’m also updating each season as chapters so it’s a little easier to follow.
> 
> Anyways thank you! I hope you enjoyed feel free to leave a comment and I hope you have a nice day ^^


End file.
